


The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

by Anthrobrat



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: 2nd Platoon BROT4, Deleted Scene, Episode: s01e08 The Last Patrol, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hershey Bars, a new kind of patrol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthrobrat/pseuds/Anthrobrat
Summary: What happens When Winters cancels the second patrol across the river? The boys create their own.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

**Author's Note:**

  * For [papersky_pencilstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papersky_pencilstars/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this little secret Santa fic! It’s a little absurd and a lot ridiculous, but you never know, it could’ve happened!  
> Thank you @muccamukk for helping me get this finished in time! You are a gem!

“No patrol tonight, moving off the line tomorrow. Chuck am I dreamin?” Liebgott yells across the room as their leaders exit the room, followed quickly by Web and Jones.

“If you are, we all are.” They all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

The rapid mood change from anxious and angry to relieved and relaxed was palpable as everyone milled about, congratulating each other on their luck that day, and making plans for finally moving off the line. They all knew better than to get their hopes up, but it was difficult not to with the announcement Major Winters had just made.

Chuck had smiled for the first time since November, and everyone was caught in the good mood, not wanting to ruin it by mentioning that Winters had told them they were moving off the line twice since Foy and neither had panned out. But the Germans were very close to throwing in the towel at that point, so maybe this would be the last time they’d have to worry about falling artillery or snipers.

“So, are they gonna make us look like we’re preparing for this again tonight, or does this mean we get the afternoon off?” Babe asked as he pushed his chair back and cupped his hands around his metal tin of coffee, placing first one then the other leg onto the table.

“Lieb.” McClung walked up from his spot crouched against the wall across the room. “You should ask Web when he gets back. He left after them, I’m sure he’s got a better idea than us. Not like we’ve ever faked a patrol before.” McClung’s deadpan as he sat down at the table made them all laugh.

“You think Winters has either? He’s straighter than an arrow,” Lieb answered, and then snarled as an aside: “Although maybe Dog and Fox have been running fake fucking patrols this whole time. It would certainly explain a lot.”

As more guys filtered out of the basement to find other ways to entertain themselves, the room ended up with just the four of them at the table. Babe, Liebgott, McClung, and Chuck drinking coffee and smoking the Lucky Strikes that Luz had pilfered from somewhere or other.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Babe declared between his third and fourth smoke.

“Ah fuck, Babe, not again.” Chuck tipped his chair back and looked toward the ceiling. Lieb laughed, knowing exactly what disaster Chuck was thinking about.

“Nah, this is a good one,” Babe said, putting his coffee down and lacing his hands behind his head, trying to look confident. “Lieb, you think there’s more Hersheys bars in the stash you pilfered from yesterday?”

“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be, unless fucking Nixon ate them all.” Liebgott didn’t bother denying his transgressions. Anyone with eyes would have seen him the day before enjoying the spoils.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. We plan our own patrol tonight.” Babe raised his eyebrows like he had said something so brilliant that the rest of them should bow down or something. He picked up his cup and finished off his coffee, twirling the empty tin mug in the air.

“What are you, Billy the fucking Kid?” Chuck said, making Liebgott laugh while Babe scowled at them both.

McClung chimed back in. “Billy the Kid, huh? I see it, saying you want to sneak into CP to steal fucking chocolate. Just waltz right in?”

“You think it can’t be done?” Babe fired back, cigarette bobbing as he spoke, fingers twisting the mug around like he couldn’t sit still.

“I mean, the man’s got a point, McClung. It’s barely illegal, and we deserve it. Plus, ain’t no sign of Sobel with his ‘army property’ bullshit. I’m in.” Liebgott opened his jacket then, and pulled out a piece of paper with writing on one side. He unfolded it so the blank side was facing up and began to draw a sketch of the CP, with a big X where the chocolate had last been spotted.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Chuck sighed, before he let the front legs of his chair touch the ground again and leaned in to look at their amateur blueprints. He pulled the pencil out of Liebgott’s hand, marking up the map and motioning with his middle finger as he explained the plan they’d need to pull this off. “Here’s our perimeter. Babe you’ll be lookout, McClung you’re lead scout. Once you clear the rooms off the foyer, Liebgott and I will come through and–”

“Yea yea, we’ll check the last places chocolate was spotted, and if there even is any left we’ll grab as many as we can carry. I know my job,” Liebgott took the pencil back and tucked it into his ear before lighting another cigarette.

McClung took one more look at the map before folding it up and handing it back to Liebgott.

“So we meet outside OP2 at 2300 hours,” Babe stage whispered, “and if the coast is clear, the heist is on.”

“Babe, we’re stealing chocolate, can you calm down?”

“Chocolate or no fuckin chocolate, Lieb, it’s still a heist. What should we call it? A fucking patrol?” McClung put his hand out to Babe’s chest to calm him down, because who gets worked up over chocolate? On the other hand, it felt like they really didn’t have much else to live for at this stage of the game.

“Relax, Babe, we’re in, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, alright, Chuck. You better be there tonight. I’m counting on your leadership.” Babe winked and laughed, diffusing the sudden tension.

“Heard Lip’s getting his battlefield commission before we get back to base. You think they’ll have him transferred?” Lieb asked no one in particular as they all got up from the table and made their way back out to the street.

“Nah, I bet Winters’ll figure out some way to keep him with us at least until we cross the river,” Chuck said over his shoulder as they made their way back to their billets.

H-hour rolled around quicker than anyone had expected, with Babe the last to arrive from his outpost duty at 23:05.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to ditch Shifty. He got so suspicious I thought I’d have to invite him along.”

“It’s okay,” McClung nodded at him, “I already promised him I’d get him a bar.”

“You told fucking Shifty?” Liebgott yelled toward the sky. “Who else knows? You guys are the worst.”

“First off,” Babe scoffed, “did any of us actually keep our mouths shut?”

Chuck laughed and kicked his boot against the ground, and Liebgott gave them all an angry stare. Footsteps along the road made everyone duck into the adjoining alley.

When the footsteps had moved on, it was time to put their plan into action. Except no one moved.

“We sure it’s in there?” Babe asked, looking up at the darkened windows on the first floor.

“Fucking positive, Babe. Unless Shifty beat us to it, since people can’t keep their fucking traps shut.” McClung shrugged at Liebgott’s jab in the darkness, and Lieb pulled his map out once more and shined the flashlight on it. “Ok, if we go in this back door it’ll be about 50 yards in on the left.”

“I’d say it’s more like 75,” Chuck chimed in, trying and failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

“I just wanted a fucking bar of chocolate,” Babe interjected. “Lieb didn’t share any of his, and I promised Gene. I owe him a chocolate bar.”

“You told—“ Liebgott began to yell before he reined himself in, spun around, leveled a glare. “You told the Doc?”

Babe was about to reply when Chuck stepped between them.

“Where the fuck did McClung go?”

“He was just here, I don’t fucking know. You didn’t see him?” Lieb asked.

“Well I certainly didn’t see him, I was looking at your map.”

Just as their voices began to raise, the door banged open and out stepped their missing brother in arms.

“It seemed like that argument might take a while, so I went ahead and grabbed the chocolate.” McClung handed two bars each to his open mouthed comrades, who pocketed them silently.

“Well,” Babe stuttered at last, “I suppose that was a pretty successful heist.”

“No thanks to you.” Liebgott punched him to emphasize his point.

“Or you,” McClung said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Anyway I gotta go bring this to Shifty, I’ll see you fellas later.”

At that, McClung meandered off back down the alley, contraband chocolate in hand. Babe scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and ran to catch up. Chuck and Joe followed quickly behind, still laughing at the confusion on Babe’s face. 

“You think Gene will like my present? It’s not quite the Belgian chocolate that he gave me, but I still wanted to give him something.” 

“Babe. It’s chocolate. He’ll like it.” Liebgott slugged him in the shoulder. “But you’re a sucker for giving up your second bar of chocolate.” 

“Hey Chuck! You hear that! He says I’m a sucker! We’ll see who’s the sucker when I get stitched up before him.”

They all rolled their eyes, but Babe knew he was right. He also knew every one of them was going to end up splitting their chocolate with someone. He was just smart because he picked the medic.


End file.
